


Departure: Salgin: Near the Waterway

by moody_trans_detective



Series: Rogueass Galaxy [2]
Category: Rogue Galaxy
Genre: Bisexual Disaster, Family Bonding, beast fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26938711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moody_trans_detective/pseuds/moody_trans_detective
Summary: The Hooded Man fights some beasts with his son and learns a little more about him.
Series: Rogueass Galaxy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956043
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Departure: Salgin: Near the Waterway

The real challenge was not to stare. He’d occasionally dropped by Salgin to spy on the boy, and there were always Raul’s regular letters, but it wasn’t the same as fighting next to Jaster. Who, now that the Hooded Man had a look at him, was no boy. Not any longer.

He was impressed, followed by proud. Yes, Jaster was a little on the fey side when it came to build—clearly he got that from his mother—but when it came to using a sword, he was a natural. Even if his blade was cheap crap unworthy of him. Well, the Hooded Man could see to that at least. Jaster’s form was good and he didn’t shy away from these beasts, even though they could easily kill him if he made a misstep.

“They’re everywhere,” he said, a truthful statement if an obvious one. He swung at a statue dog with his pathetic blade, a good swipe but one doing little real damage. The Hooded Man felt pride again, and shame. In Jaster’s hands, a more powerful weapon would not be wasted. That butterknife he was using now wasn’t fit for him to touch.

Well, the Hooded Man could fix that. Would fix that. He and Jaster finished off one of those ugly dogs together, pieces of it crumbling to the hard-packed street. He looked at the legendary sword in his hand, the sword he’d grown attached to instead of the boy. The sword he’d kept specifically for the boy, held onto all these years.

To relinquish it, to pass it over now, would set everything in motion. The Hooded Man wouldn’t just be handing Jaster a sword. He would be handing Jaster his destiny.

“Isn’t it something how the Longardians are so well armed but can’t be bothered to do anything about all these beasts?”

A baphu popped up, almost out of nowhere, and the Hooded Man watched Jaster spring into action without hesitation.

“They say they’re here for our own good, but these beasts are dangerous. They’re hurting people. Maybe the Longardians can stand by, but I can’t.”

The Hooded Man let Jaster finish the beast off with a slash that landed deep between the ribs.

“You can swear, boy,” he said, then regretted it. Jaster was no boy. He was politically minded as only an adult could be. He was determined. If he was ready to stand for Salgin, he was ready to stand for the galaxy.

No, definitely not a boy. And the Hooded Man had missed out on it all. He clenched his fist around the blade’s hilt. It had to be this way.

Jaster was peering at him with a certain suspiciousness. The Hooded Man turned away. He couldn’t have Jaster recognizing him, not yet.

“All right, fuck the Longardians then,” said Jaster. “Behind you.”

More beasts. Swords swung, blood sprayed. The Hooded Man suspected Jaster would fight his way down the street even without him here. Good.

They were nearing the waterway now, bridge out. The Hooded Man found himself half wishing the collapsed bridge was too vast a chasm for them to cross. He and Jaster could stay on this side, catch up in the church, on the sandy hill outside Salgin under the vastness of the galaxy. But he knew how the stars must be calling to Jaster, more now than ever, now that he was no longer a boy.

And it was possible Jaster wouldn’t want to catch up with the Hooded Man after all.

No, it was all better this way. A new crop of beasts sprung up from nowhere, Jaster raising his sword to meet them again. A baphu got dangerously close to a young woman but Jaster cut it down before it could harm her. Gore sprayed her pretty face, her clean clothing. The Hooded Man finished off a beast of his own in time to notice the look of disgust and betrayal she gave Jaster.

“Sorry,” he began, and put a hand out to her as she retched, but his hand too was bloody.

“Just get away from me!” she made a motion but didn’t touch Jaster. “I don’t want to see you again!”

“Damn,” said Jaster as he returned to where the Hooded Man stood. So. His boy just got dumped.

“There’ll be other women,” said the Hooded Man. He wanted to clap Jaster on the back, but he didn’t.

Jaster wiped a bit of something off his cheek with the back of a hand.

“Let’s just keep going.”

A swarm of dragonflies descended, saving the Hooded Man from having to consider what sort of advice to give. Hacking up enemies was better anyway; Jaster was clearly already capable of channeling his emotions into exertion. He could jump to meet the beasts the way only a man with young knees and firm thighs could. Fly entrails and severed wings splattered any bystanders unlucky enough to not take cover.

“Jaster, you ass!” cried another woman, older than the first, probably too old for Jaster now that the Hooded man thought of it. A still-twitching dragonfly wing stuck to her head. The Hooded Man stared as Jaster moved to pluck it off, gently, but she still shoved him away, glaring and shaking her head.

Jaster let his hands fall to his side as she retreated inside.

“You’d think they’d be happy someone’s doing something about all these beasts,” mumbled Jaster.

“Two women.” The Hooded Man turned that over in his head. “On the same street?” Well, now he was a little impressed. Not many men could pull that off.

Jaster shrugged and turned toward the out bridge. The Hooded Man followed him over the edge, the few strokes to the other side. The boy had not only grown to be a competent fighter and a bold man, he’d developed his romantic skills as well. The Hooded Man should have felt pride at that, too, but he detected traces of jealousy. At Jaster’s age he’d had hard enough time convincing one woman to sleep with him.

The water swept some of the gore clean from them but left them burdened by wet clothes. The Hooded Man knew they’d soon dry in this heat, but for now they’d be slower. This too didn’t deter Jaster from springing into action as a new crop of beasts sprung up. His motions were slowed but his sword sailed true, statue dog bits spraying through the air. Again several unlucky town residents couldn’t avoid the splatter. One very unlucky man received a mushy trail of decaying statue dog brains across his good quality robes and let out a disgusted cry.

Again the Hooded Man watched as Jaster’s eyes met the man’s, again the disappointment and betrayal in another person’s face. The soiled man pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes.

“Jaster,” he hissed, and turned away, and marched down the street.

Jaster groaned.

“Him too?” the Hooded Man asked before he could stop himself. His jealousy, mild though it had been, completely vanished. Raul was supposed to have guided Jaster at least a _little_.

His son was a little slut.

“Let’s keep going,” said Jaster again.

And the Hooded Man followed, because he didn’t want to think about how much of Salgin Jaster had screwed. Because he didn’t have to try to keep himself from bonding anymore. Because he had a sword to pass on, and a destiny to put in motion. With all Jaster had had, the boy still craved the stars. And that was one thing the Hooded man could give him that no one in all of Salgin could.


End file.
